Love And Death
by SapphicArt
Summary: Widowmaker is captured and detained by Overwatch, subjected to all sorts of tests, she's sure they'll kill her, but maybe they just want Amelie back, maybe they just want her back. Maybe...she does too. [TracerxWidowmaker pairing.]
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue.**

It had been a game, their game, their dance with fire as they shot and missed, chasing each other like cat and mouse, unclear who was the predator, and who was the prey. Amélie- Widowmaker, she had needed it. Had needed the rush, the way it made her felt as Tracer dodged all of her shots, numb frustration and relief as the other woman zipped around her.

She felt something, she felt...something she couldn't place. She hated it, all of her being hated it, hated the feeling that crowded her judgment, made her hesitate pulling the trigger. She wanted to be free of it, but at the same time, she never wanted to let it go. There was still part of her that craved her, craved something, feeling. It was a longing that even Talon's reconditioning couldn't ever put out.

The kills. Uncountable, numerous kills. They had made her feel alive, but the feeling...it left her. So quickly, too quickly, each time becoming duller and duller, muscle memory as she shot, and they went down.

Tracer, she never went down.

She was never hit. Part of it was Widowmaker herself, hesitating subconsciously, begging the miniscule part of her that was still human to miss. She was infatuated, she was obsessed, she had been since the night on the roof, the night she had shoved the other woman off the roof, the night she had felt alive. She had to feel that way again, she had to.

* * *

 **Ch1. The Game Is Changing**

Widowmaker awoke in a strange, unfamiliar place, her head pounding and eyes slightly blurry as she blinked focus, a dull feeling of pain could be felt almost everywhere as she attempted to sit up, and get up, only to find that one of her hands was handcuffed to the wall.

Panic, was an unfamiliar feeling, to the sniper. She surveyed the room, trying not to overexcite herself, she could get out of this...if she could remember how she had gotten there in the first place.

The white walls and bright lights, plain bedding and small bathroom in the corner made the place feel like a mix between a jail cell and a hospital...at this point Widowmaker wasn't sure which she prefered.

One thing was certain, she would enjoy killing whoever put her there.

* * *

Hours passed, or maybe it was only minutes, she had no way of keeping track of the time, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. She had tried everything, now Widowmaker had to wait. Sit, and wait for an escape of some sort, whenever that would come.

* * *

She didn't jump, hardly stirred at the sound of the heavy metal door screeching open, a tall blonde woman in a lab coat on the other end, causing something to stir within Widowmaker, remembrance? Familiarity? She wasn't quite certain but...she didn't like how it made her feel, strange inside, embarrassed, guilty even.

The woman looked as though she had been crying, her eyes red and puffy, her cheeks glossy- as though she had tried to hastily wipe away tears. "...Amelie." she breathed, her kind eyes turning their gaze on the sniper.

Amelie? Right...that was her name. It wasn't just Widowmaker...it was Amelie, or at least it had been, a long time ago, a time she could hardly remember, unless she fought to.

Widowmaker's brows furrowed, causing her nose to crinkle as she looked at what she assumed to be a doctor. "Why am I here? Am I supposed to know you?" She asked, almost taunting the older woman. "Is that why you talk like you know me? Like I'm your friend?" Her words cut like a knife through 's hopes, shattering them. This wasn't the kind woman she used to know...and this wouldn't be easy.

Angela cleared her throat, her face devoid of most emotion, a small glimmer of pain in her eyes, almost not there. "My name is Dr. Ziegler, and I'm here to help you."

Widowmaker scoffed, a small, cruel smile playing on her lips. "It would be easier to kill me."

She spoke about death as though she wasn't afraid of it, which would make sense, she was built to be fearless after all, rewired to be that way by Talon. Maybe part of her wanted death, the part of Amelie that truly was still in there, however small that part might be.

Angela didn't react outwardly, though on the inside she was hurting, she remained calm. "Talon has done quite the number on you, Amelie." She said, shaking her head, one hand reaching for the door, "But...We're going to fix that."


	2. Chapter 2

**Ch.2**

Hell. It had been absolute hell. She ate, she slept, she was alone. Maybe she was being punished for all the horrible things she had done. Maybe this was a test, she how quickly she would break.

Widowmaker knew they were watching her, she knew that they were taking notes on all her little habits, her behavior...she felt like a caged animal- and maybe she was.

* * *

There was a knock, on the door, no doubt some sort of cruel test, she was bound to the wall, how was she supposed to answer? "Come in..." she rolled her eyes, drawing out the last syllable of the phrase in a sing-song voice.

Her eyes widened, and her surprise must have been evident.

Tracer. Tracer was there, standing in front of her, a small, sheepish smile on her face. She stayed near the door, as though afraid that Widowmaker would lunge for her, even though she was physically unable.

"Hey there...How are you feeling, Amelie?" she spoke gently, as if talking to someone on their deathbed, slow and unsure, trying to be reassuring and kind.

"You..." Widowmaker's eyes flashed with the hot fury of anger, cold and unforgiving. "You did this, didn't you?" She asked, shaking her head, "What are you, a child?" Her voice rose slowly, "You want to fix me? You want your friend back? Well Amélie! Is! Dead!"

Tracer flinched, but otherwise didn't react. She wouldn't let Widowmaker get a rise out of her, she wouldn't let her see how upset she was. If they couldn't fix her...then all those times she had spared the sniper, and all those people Widowmaker had killed... it would all be for nothing.

Widowmaker calmed herself as best she could, this was obviously some sort of test, but she couldn't help but become so... irrationally angry around Tracer. She hated her...she needed her. "If that's all you wanted to say..." She growled, looking to the door pointedly, "Then you can leave."

Tracer hesitated, a pain in her heart, but she walked out of the room anyway. The test was over. wanted to see how Amelie would react to her, and now they had their answer. She was angry, understandably so.

* * *

"Now...if you don't hold still I can't help you." Angela chided, Widowmaker glaring daggers at the doctor, restraining straps on her arms, stomach, legs, chest, and shoulders. Still, she wiggled and struggled as best she could.

" _Va te faire foutre_." 'Fuck you', the sniper growled.

Eventually, Dr. Ziegler managed to draw Widowmaker's blood, though it took a little help from Ana, and her sleeping darts. A small revenge for taking her eye, Angela supposed.

* * *

Widowmaker awoke yet again, in a strange and unfamiliar place, a small, smiley face bandaid on her arm. She groaned, getting up once again, and sitting on her bed, her arm still chained to the wall. She almost wondered what they were doing with her blood...mostly she didn't care. She was certain they would fail. _

* * *

Days went by, maybe weeks, and it was always the same routine. Blood samples, sleep darts, and occasional visits from Tracer...Lena, was her name. As Widowmaker discovered, the smaller woman had tried to jog her memory, and while there was some familiarity, the sniper would never tell her that.

Without daily treatments to make her heart slow, and her blood cold, emotions numb, Widowmaker had began to start going backwards, her skin slowly turning a paler, not as vibrant shade of blue and purple, her blood running warm once again, and her emotions, not as numb. Especially with Tracer. It truly terrified her, for once she was scared for her life. She had been told, by Talon, what she had once been. Weak and insignificant. All of her, even Amelie, didn't want to go back to that...she had had a taste of power, and now, she didn't want to let go. She was lost, and for the first time in a long time, she felt vulnerable, she needed someone to talk to, someone she could trust. But she was alone, in all senses.

* * *

It was another few days before Tracer came back, carrying a tray of food for herself and for Widowmaker.

"Hey there luv." she called, offering her kindness, when all Widowmaker had ever given her was pain.

"Why do you do this?" She asked, the hostility gone from her eyes. "Why do you help me? I'm not Amelie. I can't be. She's gone...and all I've ever done for you, all I ever will do, is cause trouble." she paused, evaluating Lena's reaction. "...If I were you, I would've killed me a long time ago."

Lena bounced back from the surprise rather quickly, setting the tray down on Widowmaker's bed. "That's not how we do things around here." she answered simply, taking a bite from her sandwich.

Widowmaker let out a small breath of laughter, shaking her head slightly. "No? I suppose not." Lena and Widowmaker sat in silence for a long moment, before Lena spoke up.

"You got to ask a question, now I get one." She said, waiting for the sniper to react, when she didn't, she went on. "Why haven't **you,** killed me?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Ch.3**

Widowmaker was taken back to say the least, she had never expected Tracer- Lena, to ask her such a question. One she had spent many long nights asking herself. She knew the answer, of course, but would she tell Lena? How could she? She was supposed to _hate_ her...but there she was, enjoying lunch with someone she had wanted dead only a few weeks ago...she knew she needed her, now more than ever.

She was so scared and unsure and...alone. For once she truly needed someone, needed Lena. But...she knew she couldn't be who the other woman wanted her to be. She couldn't be Amelie, her old friend. No amount of treatment could make her the kind, sweet woman she once was.

What was she even thinking? Was she actually considering reaching out, to _Tracer._ Of all people? Was she losing her edge? She was so scared, so scared of what was happening to her. She was Widowmaker. Not Amelie, nothing could change that but...she felt so different. Vulnerable.

"..." Widowmaker was silent for a long while, staring into Lena's eyes, watching carefully, wondering what she should say, what she could say even."...Because I needed what we had." She said slowly, her voice hardly audible. "I needed to feel alive...and you helped me feel that way."

The sniper looked away, her heart pounding hard for the first time in years. She pursed her lips, shaking her head. "This never would've happened, if I had killed you, I wouldn't be here, scared, and- and spilling my guts to you, of all people...and maybe I would be happy that way."

Lena, was obviously not expecting such an answer, she stared, slack jawed at Widowmaker, at a loss for words. For once. "I... Amelie..." she said, pity in her voice.

"Stop." Widowmaker said harshly, her cold gaze fixed on Lena, "I'm not Amelie. That's the whole...the whole point, Tracer. Don't you get it? Amelie is dead and now...I'm here, and you all expect me to be good, and happy, and normal again. But I'm not- I'm dangerous, and I'm a monster." she paused to take a breath, letting her words sink in, "And here you are! Trying to make things normal, living in some sort of fantasy, trying to get your friend back. But I'm not her, and I'm...I'm scared. Because everything you do, makes me hate you less, and what am I supposed to do when all you want from me is to be something I can't be?"

Lena was silent, for a moment, before her brow's furrowed, her eyes filling with determination- something Widowmaker did not expect.

"I'm going to help you, Amelie or not, I know you can be better, A-...Widowmaker...you don't have to be scared or-or worried, we're all here for you. And we want to help, if you would just let us in."

The other's words made Widowmaker feel a mix of emotions, more strongly than she had ever felt- even since being in the clutches of overwatch. She was...horrified, and sad, and grateful and...and she was so, so unsure. "I-..." She started, unable to find the words. She wrapped her arms around herself, needing some form of comfort. "I don't know why you put so much hope in me, cherie." She mumbled looking down at her feet.

She almost wished Lena was right, that she could be better, but after all she'd done...did she really deserve it? Did she even want to be better? Could she manage it? She didn't know what was worse anymore, feeling nothing, or feeling like this.

"The world could always use a little more hope." Lena said gently, getting up to leave, taking the tray but leaving the food on Widowmaker's bed.

* * *

Widowmaker's arm had been unlatched from the wall. but she was still locked in, under many, many security protocols.

She paced around the room, often unable to sleep, her thoughts full of self-doubt, anger, and occasionally sadness...she finally stopped fighting. Dr. Ziegler, and was put through many psychological tests, many strange machines she knew nothing of, to see if they could get her memory back.

They all failed, but Widowmaker didn't mind...she wasn't sure she wanted all her memories back. She already had some...she didn't need the rest. They were useless, she had no sort of bond to them, to Amelie...

She had started to resent the name, the person that wasn't her, the person that everyone wanted her to be. Even the people that visited her, all of them called her that stupid, stupid name. She hated Amelie. She hated the pity in everyone's eyes as they tried to jog her memory, acting like she was some sort of tragedy.

Maybe she was to them but to her, she was just Widowmaker. Deadly sniper.

Well...at least she had been.

* * *

Tracer visited frequently, often bringing food, often staying until Angela made her leave.

Today was no different, she knocked on the door- per usual, and stepped inside- her guns hanging on either sides of her hips- just in case.

"Hiya...How's it going today?" She asked, leaning on the wall opposite from Widowmaker's bed.

"Dr. Ziegler can be an annoying woman. Widowmaker grumbled, crossing her arms, "Poking me with needles all day...I only have so much blood, you know." She added.

Tracer let out a small laugh, managing a smile. "Yea, sorry 'bout that, luv...but on the bright side, you seem to be getting better, yeah? Everyone's really excited to see you."

Widowmaker sighed a bit, shrugging her shoulders, "I don't see why...I don't know them...don't even like them...I mean I hardly tolerate **you**." she laughed a bit, at her own little joke. Lena was the only reason she was behaving for Overwatch, she wanted to keep seeing her...and she knew she wouldn't be allowed to if she showed any signs of danger.

"Oh come on now, they're all happy to see you, you could at least be civil." Lena chided, earning a glare from Widowmaker.

She was being as civil as she could manage, at the moment... besides, she refused to buddy up with anyone who still thought she was Amelie, it made her angry beyond belief, beyond ration.

"Anyways..." Widowmaker mumbled, letting out a heavy sigh. "I...I feel like I should apologize to you...I don't really want to but. I know I should."

Lena paused, tilting her head to the side, slightly confused, but having a suspicion about what this would be.

"All those times you tried to save someone and I killed them...I would hate me, if I were you." She let out a small, gruff laugh, "I truly am a horrible person. I hadn't realized it but..seeing you...you're so different from me."

Lena sat down next to the other woman, a move that Dr. Ziegler would no doubt scold her for later, "...You're not a horrible person, bad people did bad things to you...it doesn't excuse everything you've done but...it certainly changes how I feel about them."

Widowmaker sighed yet again, unable to look the other in the eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about."


	4. Chapter 4

**Ch.4- Tracer's perspective**

Lena looked a little confused, her brows rising slightly as she waited for Widowmaker to explain.

"I mean...I'm not good. By and standards, I crave power and a means to get it... I'm selfish and...horrible. I don't regret, and I often find myself wishing I'd been able to get out of this..." She sighed, looking at the other woman, a longing in her eyes. "But some part of me is glad that I'm here. Not to get better, not to be fixed, but for you."

The revelation hit Lena like a freight train. All those times Widowmaker had danced around her, shot at her and missed her...it wasn't because she was good, or Amelie, or worthy of redemption. It was because she had fallen in love. With her, of all people.

"I-I-I..." Lena stuttered out, blinking a few times in surprise, looking from the door, to Widowmaker, praying for some sort of out while her heart pounded in her chest. She didn't know what to think, what to do...how could she? She was infatuated with a monster...even after what she had said, all her insisting, Lena still had hope for her. She had to have hope...she couldn't take it, if everything she said was true.

"You don't have to say anything, cherie." Widowmaker mumbled, looking at her hands before fixing the other with a small, bitter-sweet smile. "You can leave. I think it'd be better that way."

Lena nodded after a moment of silence, looking extremely conflicted as she got up, hesitating at the door, turning as though she wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. She left, leaving Widowmaker feeling hopeless once again...hopeless and alone.

* * *

Lena didn't tell anyone, not even Angela, or Winston, about how she felt. She knew they would be concerned and angry and...she knew it would be a more of a mess than it already was.

She didn't know what to do with herself, moping in her room, thinking hard about what Widowmaker had said.

How could she have been so blind? It was all so obvious, the answer's Widowmaker had given her weren't the ones she wanted to hear but... she knew that they were mostly the truth.

Now...now she was torn. Between her feelings and the right thing to do. Was it right to love a villain? She was supposed to be the hero...the brave, witty woman who saved the day, not who fell in love with the enemy.

Lena laid her head back on her pillow, staring at the ceiling, her heart pounding in her chest as she thought through all her options. She was trapped, truly and utterly. What was she supposed to do anyway?

She let out a long groan. flopping over and burying her face in her bed covers, wondering if this was all some sort of strange dream, wishing she had never met, fought against, or known Widowmaker or Amelie.

* * *

The next few days were hell. Lena was sloppy during practice, her mind elsewhere. Her mind on Widowmaker. She couldn't think of anything else, the other woman had ensnared her in a web, she couldn't get out and she didn't want to anyways.

Everyone took notice, how she stopped visiting Widowmaker, how she was irritable and snappy. Winston had even talked to Widowmaker herself, getting no answers other than something in very annoyed French.

Angela continued to work hard to find some sort of solution to the reconditioning that had been done on Amelie, she ran into wall after wall, confused as ever. She just... couldn't understand what had been done to turn her into...into that.

The doctor felt hopeless, unsure what they could even do to help...unsure they even could. She knew one thing though, that if this failed, if they failed, they would have to do something about Widowmaker. They couldn't let her go, couldn't let her stay with Overwatch when she posed such a threat. When most of Overwatch was a threat to her. If anything...killing her would be the most merciful option.

* * *

Lena finally decided to face Widowmaker again, after what she had said to her... she had so many things that she wanted to say back but...she didn't know if it was right to. She didn't know if she could.

She stood in front of the door for a long while, her hand resting on the door while she fought with herself, over what she would even do, once in there.

Eventually, she managed to go in, knocking lightly before pushing open the door. "Hey..." She said slowly, peering in and shutting the door to find Widowmaker sitting up, her a glimmer of hope in her eyes, bitterness on her face.

"...You came back." She mumbled, swinging her legs over the side of her bed and getting up, looking uncertain of what she should do. She just stood there- they just stood there for a while, before Lena broke the silence.

"You...uh...I'm sorry I didn't visit, I just thought...y'know...it would be easier for the both of us if I didn't."

Widowmaker paused, carefully thinking over what Lena had said, "Why would it be hard for the both of us?" She asked slowly, getting a long sigh from the other in return.

"C-C'mon, luv, we both know why...don't make me spell it out." Lena mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly, her heart pounding hard in her chest. Gah...why was she even doing this? Why was she even telling Widowmaker how she felt...they couldn't actually do anything about it...

Widowmaker sat back down on the bed, combing a hand through her long, dark hair. She herself had no idea what she could do...what she should do. She only knew what she wanted to do.

"I-If...I get better. Will they let me see you? Will they let me out of here?"


End file.
